Rookie
by Radie
Summary: You will go up to the observatory right now, young man, and you will like it.


It wasn't as though he had never been up this high. Any Rudie worth their salt had been up to Pharaoh Park at least once in their career. Even though it was run by the Immortals, those sacks of rot were never present and, being the tourist trap that it was, the park was far too tempting to overlook in their absence. Too many ignorant people wandered around, people who were easily baited into "loaning" a few bucks with sob stories about their lives. Or, if you were Clutch, too many pickable pockets were present to just simply turn up your nose.

But the thing about Pharaoh Park was that it was _safe_ to get to. You just followed the freeway up to the canopy of the skyscraper district, then rolled down the faux sandstone path. The biggest jump was from the overpass to the center of the park, a drop no higher than twelve feet. _Twelve_. Not to say Yoyo had never jumped from someplace higher than twelve feet, but Corn was raising the bar a little too high.

How high? About a hundred stories, give or take a floor or two.

The leader of the GGs had been speaking for about fifteen minutes, his humorously large hands waving wildly in the air as he animatedly tried to instill some sort of courage and resolve into the kid. Yoyo, however, had been tuning him out with the help of the radio, examining the area as though he had never been there before. From the safety of the benches in the square (which was oddly _round_ for a "square"), it had been easy to ignore just how high up they were and just how much taller all of the buildings surrounding them happened to be.

Now that Corn was trying to coax him up to the observatory, the highest point in the whole damned district, the environment now seemed sinister and foreign. Despite the light pollution, half of the buildings blended in perfectly with the night sky, save for illuminated windows that glared at him like millions of demonic eyes. They stretched for hundreds of feet above him, thousands of feet below, and the silhouette of satellite dishes and forgotten cranes gazed down at him like silent gods. All of a sudden, the area morphed into something out of a nightmare before his very eyes, and yet here was Corn. Talking. _Endlessly_.

It was as though he thought this hellscape was an amusement park, not a death trap.

"... And that's why we're here," Corn finished, turning to Yoyo with his arms outstretched, like it was some cause for celebration. Taking off his sunglasses and wiping off the sweat with the end of his hoodie, the younger Rudie looked up with a cocked eyebrow. Had his "glorious leader" really been so consumed in his little pep talk that he failed to notice that he had not heard a word he said? That he was so full of dread that he couldn't possibly focus on anything but the idea of splattering to the pavement?

Probably. Corn was like that. He had so much faith in his subordinates that it never occurred to him that they could have any reservations about anything.

Only when Yoyo didn't respond with his normal enthusiasm, did Corn seem to catch on. He knitted his brow and scratched his chin, leaning down so that he was eye-to-eye with the new kid. His beady brown eyes were partially hidden behind the brim of his ridiculous hat and a screen of shaggy hair, but Yoyo could tell by the twist of his chapped lips that he was disappointed. This was confirmed when a loud sigh escaped that behemoth nose of his and, straightening his posture, Corn grumbled, "Sometimes I wish you _were_ just the pizza guy. Hell, the pizza guy probably wouldn't be this much of a pussy."

Yoyo sat his glasses back on his nose and shrugged.

"Then recruit the pizza guy. I am _not_ climbing up higher than Pharaoh Park. There is no way in hell that you could budge me from this spot."

"Oh, but _come on_, rookie!" the older boy whined. Yoyo cringed; he hated being called that. He had proven himself to be just as competent, if not more so, than half the slackers that Corn held in a higher regard. Who was it that shut Beat up at Dogenzaka, or cleared their name with Combo at Shibuya? It sure as hell wasn't that prissy blond who was so caught up in cute guys that she couldn't see anything beyond what her hormones would allow. And Corn? As ambitious as he was, he seemed to have grown _lazy_ since Yoyo's addition to the gang.

Grabbing Yoyo by the shoulders, Corn dragged him out to the northern edge of the square and turned him to face south. Before he could even ask what was going on, Corn had a handful of his hair and was forcefully jerking his head upwards, pointing excitedly as though Yoyo had any choice but to look right at what he wanted him to see. In a voice jittery with giddiness, the leader exclaimed, "See? You just have to get up there!"

Looming above them, surrounded in the twisting framework of an unfinished skyscraper, was the Rokkaku Observatory. Being as perfectly round as it was, it looked like the Death Star with a telescope and, given Yoyo's fear of dying, it was just as intimidating. The only thing that could have completed the picture was if a flash of lightning flashed behind its towering form.

"And this sounds fun to you?" Yoyo asked incredulously. With an annoyed sigh, Corn turned loose of his hair and faced him with a groan, replying with a blunt, "Yes. Yes it does."

"And are you sure you're not on any substances that could _possibly_ make you have a death wish?"

"Oh, come off it!" Corn snapped. "I've done this a million times! A million and one, even! Skating the scrapers is no more dangerous than riding the power lines on 99th Street, or going _anywhere_ in Rokkaku-Dai Heights."

The younger boy blinked, but kept his mouth shut. He could have made the argument that Rokkaku-Dai was surrounded by water and not nearly as tall, or the fact that 99th Street was full of tiered buildings with ledges to cling to and that, if one slipped up, they wouldn't have much of a fall. However, he knew Corn would just blow it off and say he was just making excuses. To save them the argument, he kept his mouth shut and stared at the ground.

"It's not that scary, seriously!" he continued.

"Corn, you ever see that famous photo with the woman who threw herself off of the Empire State Building?"

"Oh, _please_. Do you really need to..."

"She just threw herself off from the top and somehow..."

"... worry about that, you're not going to..."

"... she landed on this limousine and just _shattered_ every window with how hard she hit..."

"... die, so would you just _come off it?_"

"... and I think that, unlike her, I wouldn't be very photogenic if I hit the ground that hard."

The two stopped and stared at each other dumbly, neither of them impressed with the other's rambling. Corn seemed particularly apathetic towards his opponent's reasoning, rolling his eyes with a loud sigh and gesturing Yoyo to follow him to the edge of the walkway. Though reluctant, he finally caved and slowly glided over, skidding to a stop at the glowing blue railing. Like a king entrusting his land to a successor, Corn dramatically extended his arm and slowly panned it from side to side. Yoyo shifted uneasily next to him.

"You see this?"

A slow, deliberate nod was the only response.

"What is it?"

A moment of consideration, then, "A really long way down."

"No, I mean what is it made of?"

"... Metal?"

Corn dropped his hand to his side and groaned, throwing a palm in his face. Yoyo looked up at him expectantly, smirking. If Corn had an answer aside from what he was given, he'd _love_ to hear it.

"I meant _walls_," the exasperated leader grunted. "And what do you do with walls?"

Of course, the new kid knew the answer. It was just that he didn't think Corn would be crazy enough to suggest that wallriding down a _bajillion_ floors was safe and recommended. Honestly, what were the odds of reaching the road safely that way? By the time you hit the sidewalk, you'd have built up enough momentum to shatter every bone in your body on impact. There was no way in hell anyone had tried that and survived it, or at least survived without being crippled for the rest of their life.

Slowly, Yoyo pulled away from Corn and backed up, shaking his head and turning towards the exit of the park. Alarmed, Corn raised up and bolted after him, trying to cut him off with a cry of, "Hey, where you going?"

"Back to the Garage."

"You are such a fucking _coward_, man. What is with you?"

"What part of 'I'm not suicidal' do you not understand?"

"What part of 'rocket skates' do _you_ not understand?"

Yoyo paused long enough to peer over the top of his glasses at his leader and utter a laugh. Without missing a beat, he slowly turned around him and skated right on past, rolling his finger in a circle next to his head to indicate that Corn was crazy. Before he could speak out against Yoyo, his scratchy voice called back to him.

"Rocket skates? Great!" he scoffed. "That just means I can _jet propel_ myself to my untimely death. Thanks, but no thanks. I'll stick to, you know, _places where all I have to worry about are cars_."

With that, he departed, hopping up to the exit and turning down the freeway towards 99th Street. Corn began to follow him, but stopped himself before he flat-out demanded that Yoyo stop in his tracks and grow a backbone.

Everyone had first-time jitters when they were confronted with the skyscraper district, but everyone had eventually caved to the call of the street in the end. Gum had. Beat had. He certainly had, and he never regretted it. Whether Yoyo wanted to admit it or not, he _was_ the rookie, and he would be until he proved his mettle. Fortunately, he had more than enough time to do so.

After all, all they had was way too much free time to do stupid shit.


End file.
